


Heaven, Hell, and Humanity

by imagining_supernatural



Series: Heaven, Hell, and Humanity [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, King of Hell Dean, he's hot as fuck, it's the end of the world y'all, we've got some implied smut in here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2019-09-16 16:39:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16957683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagining_supernatural/pseuds/imagining_supernatural
Summary: It's the apocalypse and Demon!Dean has become the King of Hell. He's been hearing about a hunter who has been killing his demons and is interested in tracking her down. The hunter comes across Sam and they begin a long journey to try and save the world from Demon!Dean. (This was a request on tumblr)





	1. Unseen World

          What you wouldn’t give for some damn Starbucks. For some reason, when you thought about the end of the world, you always imagined all of your favorite fast food joints would still be open. You’ve worked in retail before. It was hell. Retail, end of the world. What was the difference?

 _Alas_ , you thought dramatically.  _The days of fast food are over. Except for, you know, the monsters who eat humans. We run pretty fast._

          And speaking of monsters… The demon you were stalking turned into an abandoned Walmart. As in he walked into the store, not that he physically became a…

          Nevermind.

          This apocalypse thing really fried your brain. Good thing you had a pretty big one before.

          Ever so quietly, you slipped through the broken glass of the automated doors that quit working years before and kept on alert, searching for your target. You caught a flash of his green jacket disappearing to the left, where the food had been. Every store was picked clean. Once all of the monsters came out of the closet, so to speak, the police had had more on their plates than worrying about a couple thieves. And the monsters had had police on their plate.

 _I wonder if they tasted like bacon,_  you thought idly, remembering the days when cops were referred to as pigs.

          Those days were long over, though.

          As you picked your way through the vegetation beginning to retake this store, you thought about the chaotically organized attack the monsters were waging. Sure, they went for any human, but that first year was the year that law enforcers and those sworn to protect were targeted. It was a tactful way to increase terror without anyone realizing why. But no one else seemed to realize that there was more behind this apocalypse than just the usual end of the world crap.

          Because the next large group to die had been the celebrities. The scientists and leading academic professionals had been targeted as soon as that wave had been over.

          You lost sight of the demon, but your senses and instincts told you that he was still here. Time to take the offensive. You grabbed your container of paint, homemade, of course. You couldn’t find regular paint anywhere anymore. Surveying the store, you picked a blind corner and started painting a devil’s trap. Thank god that devils traps still worked.

          But that was about the only thing you could thank god for. The world had gone to shit and he wasn’t doing a single thing.

          Because after academia fell, everyone lost all hope of figuring out how to fix the monster problem. Panic and terror abounded.

          That’s when the monsters went after the newscasters. The bloggers. The journalists. Communication was completely cut off. It was genius, really. Saving them for last. Whoever was really in charge of this monstrous attack knew that the news would cover anything and they loved spreading bad news. But this unseen leader also knew exactly when to cut everyone off from each other. Everyone went from knowing everything, to only knowing what they could see.

          It was the unseen world that was the most frightening.

          You finished your trap and set to work luring the demon into it. You had a few questions about who was giving him orders. And you intended to get answers from this one.

* * *

          “Sir?”

 _Ah great. It’s the timid one_ , Dean thought.  _I should just kill him and make an example._

          “Uh, sir?”

          “What is it?” Dean snapped.

          The tiny man shrank back, but at least he didn’t turn and run. “Gregory is dead. That hunter that killed everyone in Tulsa got to him in a Walmart. Sir.”

 _Y/N._ Dean had been hearing about you. A lot, actually. You hadn’t been a hunter back when he was still on the wrong side of this equation. But now you were quite a nuisance. “Where?”

          “Wal—Walmart,” the demon stammered. “Uh, Sir.”

 _This_  is what the world has come to? What a pitiful excuse for a demon. This would be a pitiful excuse for a human. Dean languidly pushed himself off the throne and strolled toward the cowering sack of bones and black smoke. Striking out like a snake, Dean grabbed him by the throat and held him up in the air, toes inches off the ground. “Which Walmart?”

          The choking alone wouldn’t hurt the demon, but Dean sent waves of holy vapor into the bloodstream. It didn’t bother Dean, but it was torture for the rest of demonkind. Gagging and struggling, the demon managed to gasp out, “Salt Lake.”

          Annoyed with this demon and that nuisance of a hunter, Dean flooded the meatsuit with holy vapor, killing the demon slowly. He dropped the body and turned his back as the demon screamed and writhed on the ground for a good five minutes before finally going still. Dean strolled around the room, eyeing everyone. No one was shocked, but everyone was scared.

          Good.

          “Don’t make me pull every piece of information out of you. Got it?”

          Murmurs of assent flew around the room and Dean nodded, pleased. “Get to work. Raul, Jacques. Go to Utah. Bring me the girl. Alive.”

          The two charged with the task nodded and disappeared. It was time to pay his brother a visit. Someday soon, Dean would be able to close the circle. Or, as was a more apt visual, he would be able to tie the noose. But not then. And until that day, Sam needed to stay alive.

* * *

          Four years. Sam had been searching for  _four years_. There had to be  _some_ way to bring his brother back. Something he could do or say to get Dean to stop this apocalypse. Some way to cure him, like they’d almost cured Crowley.

          Speaking of Crowley, he might have some ideas. But Sam had given up two years ago on finding that son of a bitch. He didn’t know whether Dean had killed him or what, but Crowley was no longer an asset or liability.

          Sam was starting to think that there wasn’t a way to save Dean, either. The thought made him sick to his stomach, but he couldn’t help it. It had been four years since Dean overthrew Crowley. Five since he’d become a demon.

          There was no Heavenly help, either. Somehow, Dean figured out how to shut Heaven down. All of the angels were locked away. Sam was all alone, the world was dying, and he didn’t know how to save it this time.

          “Heya Sammy,” the voice that haunted Sam’s dreams said from behind him. It wasn’t Dean anymore.

          “What are you doing here?”

          “Can’t I come check in on my little brother? It’s been too long, kid.” Dean strolled around the room and Sam turned, always keeping him in the corner of his eye. He hadn’t seen his brother in over four years. Why show up now?

          “Love what you did with the place. And repairing that train track that Azazel ripped up? That’s my Stanford educated brother. Only keeps out demons, though. Not vamps or—“

          “What do you want, Dean?” Sam cut in through clenched teeth. Dean just turned around and looked at Sam with an amused look. “Did you come to kill me? What are you waiting for?”

          Dean tsked and shook his head. The mannerisms weren’t even remotely Dean anymore. He was fully demonic now. The small part of Sam’s heart that had remained intact the last few years cracked. “Kill you? No, little brother. I’m just doing my brotherly duties—“

          “Bullshit,” Sam interrupted. The muscle in Dean’s neck jumped, just like it always had when he was annoyed. Strangely enough, that small detail gave Sam the reckless bravery he needed. “You haven’t cared for over four years, ever since you tried to kill me in the bunker. You’ve been having too much fun ruling Hell to even think about me.”

          “You’re right, Sam,” Dean replied coldly. “You haven’t even crossed my radar. You’ve just been cowering in this giant devil’s trap that someone else made. You’re hiding in the middle of nowhere Wyoming, not doing a damn thing. I guess I should thank you. Sure is making my job a hell of a lot easier.” He chuckled at his weak pun. “Ah, Sammy. Reminds me of when I went to Purgatory. Remember that? How you just left me down there to rot? What did you do then? That’s right. You hit a dog and got a girl.”

          “What. Do. You. Want?” Sam couldn’t handle seeing Dean like this.

          Dean didn’t respond for a moment. Then he cocked his head to the side. “I want you to keep doing what you’re doing. I’ve already got one hunter who just won’t give up. I don’t need you trying to get back in the game.”

          “Which hunter?” If there was someone out there who was still kicking, and kicking hard enough to make Dean anxious enough to check in, maybe he was worth checking out.

          “You don’t know ‘em. Way outta your league, little bro.”

          “How would you know?”

          “King of Hell. Warden of Heaven. Earth’s not too far behind. I know things.” Dean walked to the door. “You might know a thing or two too if you took a step outside every now and then. Waste of Winchester potential, Sammy.”

          Between one step and the next, Dean disappeared, leaving Sam with new motivation.

* * *

_Dean Winchester._

          The unseen leader. He was quite the hunter’s legend. He and his brother Sam, cruising around in their black Impala and leaving supernatural bodies in their wake.

          Now, apparently, Dean was sporting a pair of black eyes, but he wasn’t just a demon. Oh no. Nor was he merely a Knight of Hell. He was something more. Something never before seen.

          Which meant he was a challenge.

          And you loved a good challenge.


	2. Upper Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get some info out of some demons about Dean, and Sam finds you.

          The underbrush snagged on your jeans as you ran, but you barely registered the fact. It didn’t seem important when there were two very determined demons chasing you through the mountainous forest.

          And boy were these chatty demons. You didn’t even have to torture them to get any info out of them. They kept taunting you and spilling all of their secrets in a weak attempt to draw you out.

          “I don’t know what makes you so special,” one of the black eyed bastards yelled from behind you.

          “Maybe boss just wants to have a little fun, if you know what I mean?” the second one insinuated.

          Ah. So King Dean wanted you alive. Why? You had no idea. But if these demons were this chatty when they thought they were in charge, who knew what beans they would spill when you got them trapped. And you were nearly to the devil’s trap you’d hidden near your camp of the week.

          But first, you had to keep luring them into their egos and a false sense of superiority. You slowed just enough so they would catch a glimpse of you and think they were so smart and fast.

          The next time it happened, it would be too late for them.

          “She  _is_  a feisty one,” the first demon continued conversationally, a hitch in his voice when he saw you. These were two very stupid demons. “I might just have to take a shot at her before we hand her over.”

          “Make her pay for killing Greg,” one growled.

          It was time to play right into their hands. “What about Tulsa? You had any friends there? Oklahoma City? Denver? Seems like I have the upper hand here.”

          “Two demons against one human,” one of them reminded you. As if you hadn’t killed a dozen demons by yourself in Denver. “I like our odds.”

          They sped up and you avoided the giant wooden board you’d painted the trap on and covered with underbrush. You kept running past it, letting them see you as you disappeared into the trees on the other side of the clearing. They cut right through the center and stumbled onto the board, falling face first into the trap.

          You laughed as you circled back around. “How about those odds? I like them quite a bit.”

          They scowled at you and spat curses, but you let everything roll off your skin.

          “You know, you aren’t very good stalkers. I’ve seen you this last week. Every day, actually. Figured it was better to be safe than sorry.” You strolled around the trap and the hair on the back of your neck lifted. You weren’t alone. There was someone else out there. Friend or foe? It didn’t really matter. You had to keep them thinking they had the upper hand, so you had to get your interrogation going. You just really hoped the demons wouldn’t say anything that could help this newcomer.

          “Was Gregory the demon in Walmart? The one I tortured for hours? The one who broke faster than a toddler with a glass?” The anger in their eyes was the answer you needed. “At least your boss sent two this time. I must be getting more famous down in hell. Tell me, does Dean want my autograph?”

          Hearing their King’s name froze your captives. “How do you know about him?”

          “I know things. This was your first mission, right? The very first time your frightening leader sent you topside?” Silence. Didn’t these idiots know that silence was as much an answer as speaking was? “Wow. What failures you turned out to be. I bet dear old Dean won’t be very impressed with you two. Tell me, what does King Winchester do to those who disappoint him?”

          The faintest sound of a branch breaking drew your attention behind you for a moment, even if you didn’t show anything on the outside. Whoever was out there, they were content to stay hidden for a few more minutes. And they didn’t  _feel_  like a threat.

          “Maybe I shouldn’t exorcise you. I should just leave you on Hell’s doorstep wrapped in a bow for Dean to do whatever he pleases with you two buffoons.”

          The demon on the right puffed his chest out. “Do your worst. We’ve accomplished our task. Did you really think we would come here without backup?”

          “Yes, I really think you did.”

          “It won’t matter. Whatever you do isn’t but a drop in the ocean compared to what Hell is planning. We haven’t had a leader like Dean since Lucifer.”

          So there  _was_ a plan.

          “Some plan it is. Decimating the human race. You really think he’s going to stop once we’re all dead? Get your head out of your asses. You’re next.”

          A dark laugh came from the shorter demon. “You think we’re going to  _kill_  every human? You’d all be dead by now. What a juvenile—“

          “Shut  _up_ , Jacques!”

          Control. Dean was after control of humanity. He didn’t just want to rule Hell. He wanted Earth too.

          “Thank you for your cooperation. It was really nice getting to know you two.” After your fake politeness, you exorcised them. Next time, you had a feeling Dean wouldn’t send two first timers after you.

          “You can come out, now,” You called to the stranger in the woods. “Hands on your head.”

* * *

          Sam froze for a moment, unable to decide what to do.  _This_  must have been the hunter Dean was talking about. He was so out of practice, but in the last week, he’d discovered the hunting was just like riding a bike. Still, he wasn’t nearly ready to be on your level.

          “I know you’re there. You’re welcome to keep hiding if that makes you feel better.”

          Heaving a sigh, Sam reached up and locked his fingers behind his head before stepping out of his hiding place. He caught the briefest flash of shock on your face before you schooled it into a disinterested mask.

          “Now was that so hard?” You asked, strolling over. As you walked, you pulled a gun and some knives out of your clothes, dropping them in a pile. “Your turn.”

          Sam doubted that you were completely weaponless. So he kept the knife he had stashed in his sock, but followed your lead with the rest of his weapons. “Who are you?”

          “Y/N. You?”

          “Sam.”

          “Winchester?” This time you didn’t catch your shock, and Sam couldn’t hold back his either. You knew about him? “Dean’s brother? I thought you were dead.”

          Dead? “Not quite. How do you know about me?”

          Sam watched as you tossed your hair, the sunlight filtering in through the leaves lighting up the strands in a mesmerizing waterfall. “You’re a Winchester. You can’t get into hunting without hearing about you and your brother. You’re kind of legends.”

          “And you thought I was dead?”

          “You can’t really blame me. You’ve kinda been MIA these last few years. If it makes you feel better, I thought Dean was dead until a few days ago.”

          “What do you know about him?” Sam asked, taking a step forward. If you made Dean nervous enough to check up on Sam, then he needed to know everything you did.

          Unfortunately for Sam, you seemed to be wary of him. He could see it in the way the muscles around your eyes tightened and the tilt of your head. “Not as much as the brother who’s known him his whole life, probably.”

          “You said it yourself. I’ve been kinda MIA lately.”

          “Why is that?” Your voice was equal parts curious and accusing.

          Good question. Out here, in the middle of the forest with god knows what prowling around, research didn’t seem like an answer that would cut it. It was just easier to stay in that house in Wyoming, safe in the railroad devil’s trap.

          “I see,” you said when Sam didn’t answer. His eyes flashed over to you. What had you come up with? “You couldn’t take it, could you? Your brother was a demon and the world was going to hell. Again. You couldn’t watch it happen, could you? After hunting your whole life, that was your breaking point.”

          “I did everything I could,” Sam growled, stepping forward defensively. He hated being called out. “I tried to cure my brother. I read every book trying to figure out how to stop him. I did  _everything_.”

          His outburst hadn’t even fazed you. In fact, you were watching him with an analytical eye that reminded him of a therapist. “And Dean didn’t kill you. It seems like becoming King of Hell and whatever the hellish kind of demon he is would make him want to cut all ties. Family, friends…”

          “He tried.”

          “What happened?”

          “Why should I tell you?”

          “Because you came looking for me. You want something I have, and the only way I’m going to give anything to you is if you answer my questions.” You were blunt. Sam couldn’t help the admiration that bubbled up in him. Blunt, to the point, and correct.

          “Why does Dean want you?” He tossed back, instead of answering. He wasn’t the only one who wanted what the other had.

          “I’m annoying. Why didn’t he end up killing you?”

          “An angel saved me. What do you mean you’re annoying?”

          You just smirked and fired back a question. “Which angel?”

          Sam was definitely feeling annoyed now. “You first.”

          “What a gentleman,” you responded drily. After a moment more of regarding him thoughtfully, you turned your back on him and started gathering up your weapons. Sam was quick to do the same, not wanting to be caught off guard. “Welcome back to the life, Winchester. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”


	3. Distrust and Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean puts plans into motion for you and Sam.

          “Say that again?” Dean requested in a deceptively calm voice.

          “Jacques and Raul failed,” the demon repeated in a firm, strong voice. At least one of these demons could learn. The only fear he was showing at delivering this angering message to Dean was a slight shake of his hands. “She exorcised them.”

          “Did she now?” Dean mused, not at all surprised. His calm reception of this information made the demons in the room uneasy.

          “There’s something else… sir.”

          This would be good. This demon, perhaps Dean should learn his name, seemed like a good soldier. Strong. He could be useful. If something made him hesitate, it was something big. “What?”

          “We found traces of… Sam Winchester. We can’t be sure it was him, but it felt like him. I think they’re working together.”

          Dean fixed his eyes on the demon, noticing the way his confidence had grown in the last few seconds. He’d gone from saying  _we_  to _I_ _._ Taking full credit for that thought with no idea how Dean would react. Yes. This demon would do nicely.

          “What is your name?”

          “Taggart, sir.”

          “Follow them, Taggart. Don’t let them know you’re there. Report back to me every day.”

          “Yes, sir.”

          No arguments. No hesitation. The perfect soldier.

          After ordering the rest of the demons back to work, Dean sat back smugly. Everything was going according to plan.

* * *

          “—That’s when the news and internet cut out. All communication between cities gone.” You and Sam were lying under a cloudless night sky. The stars watched over you as you caught him up on everything he’d missed during his years of playing hermit. At least the stars were still there. They seemed to be the only constant lately. Everything else had fallen into such disarray that you barely recognized anything.

          “Since then the only time anyone gets news from outside of their town is when people like me pass through.”

          “Are there a lot of people like you?” Sam asked, turning his head on the ground to look at you.

          You grinned over at him. “I’m one of a kind, Winchester. But there are a few  _omegas_  out there.” You rolled your eyes at the word. “Those stupid dystopian novel books have made everyone so dramatic about this end of the world thing. They have to rename everything to make it sound cooler. The leaders of the cities are alphas. Followers are betas. People like me who travel from place to place are omegas. It’s so stupid because there are actually werewolf packs out there who have used these labels for ages.”

          Any good mood that came from your explanation of the stupid labels dissipated with your next words. “But it doesn’t matter anymore. The novelty of the apocalypse has worn off. People just… they don’t hope or smile anymore.”

          "Can you blame them?” Sam asked quietly, returning his gaze to the sky.

          You took a moment to study his strong profile. Sam Winchester was a legend, but here he was. Next to you. Losing hope.

          “You don’t get it, Sam. They have nothing. The humans who have lived this far are barely human. They’re shells of distrust and scars. They’ve watched their family and friends get slaughtered. They’ve wondered what makes them so special that the monsters spared them?” Fighting to make your voice even was hard with that question. “They fought back. They’ve gotten hurt. And now, they’ve stopped fighting. They’ve stopped wondering. That spark that makes us human is gone.”

          “What about you?” Sam asked.

          “I still have hope,” You said simply, avoiding his eyes.

          “Maybe that’s why he wants you.”

          Sam hadn’t said Dean’s name since your first conversation. It was too painful for him. You could see why, but if there was one thing you knew, it was that you couldn’t avoid anything. That’s why you made it a point to say his name as often as possible. “I think Dean’s more interested in me because I keep killing his minions.”

          There was a shift in the air and you sat up, immediately on alert. Next to you, Sam had his gun out, pointed toward the new presence.

          Footsteps sounded and a man materialized as he got closer.

          “That’s far enough,” you called out and he stopped, holding his hands out to his side. “Who are you?”

          “Let’s just get this out of the way,” the man drawled just before his eyes went black. Sam jerked, aiming his gun at the heart out of habit. “I’m not here to hurt either of you.”

          “Oh, I just love it when demons are trustworthy, don’t you Sam?” You asked in a fake bright voice. “It really is a nice change of pace.”

          The demon cocked his head, studying you with an odd expression. “I have an offer. From our king.”

          “ _Your_  king. Not mine.”

          “Yet,” The demon shot back, unknowingly filling in part of the puzzle for you. “He’s offering you a place by his side.”

          “Like a concubine? I’m flattered, but I’ll pass.”

          “I would reconsider,” the demon advised. “You could be a commander in his army.”

          “Once again, I’m flattered, but I’ll pass. I’ve found that I’m very good at getting demons to do what I want without his royal decree.” What had brought on this 180 degree turn? Dean had gone from wanting to kill you, to wanting to reward you. He had to have known you would turn down this offer. Maybe you could make him question your move. “But I might be more inclined to accept if the king himself offered me the position.”

          You didn’t miss the way Sam jerked his head and stared at you like you’d just lost your mind. Who knew, maybe you had.

          “I’ll pass along your message.” With that stiff farewell, the demon left.

          “What the hell, Y/N?” Sam asked as soon as you were alone, still looking at you like you had a second head.

          “What? You saw him and he didn’t kill you. He wants me alive for some reason. I want information and I don’t think his minions know too much more.”

          “You just invited the most powerful demon to come talk you into joining him. And we have no idea how to kill him.”

          You purposefully didn’t look at Sam as you twisted off the lid to your water bottle. “You would kill your own brother?”

          He hesitated, surprised by your question. You watched him deliberate over the lip of your bottle. “He’s not my brother.”

          “If you say so…” you turned and headed to your backpack and began pulling out the tent and blanket you stored there.

          “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

* * *

          Dean leaned forward, waiting for your explanation. Taggart was proving to be a great asset. He was good enough that neither you nor Sam noticed the tracking spell the demon had managed to attach.

          Your voice came over the speaker. “It means that whether you want to admit it or not, you still think of Dean as your brother. It means that for all your bluster, you still have hope that you can save him. He still knows how to pull your strings. He’s played you, Sam. Dean has you exactly where he wants you.”

          “And he wants me working with you?”

          “Would he have shown up in your cave—“

          “House,” Sam corrected in a mumble.

          “—and dangled me on a string if he didn’t want you to come find me?” There was a pause, during which Dean assumed you were letting Sam digest your words. You were proving to be quite the hunter. Yes, Dean thought, you would do well.

          “Sam,” your voice was much lower, consoling. “You don’t give up on family. We’re alike in that manner. The only difference now, is that you can still save your brother. It’s too late for my family. So what are you going to do?”

          Dean leaned back in his chair, readjusting his mental picture of you. He’d known you were smart and a good hunter. But that wasn’t all. You hadn’t broken. Whatever had happened with your family had left a gash in your heart. Dean could hear it in your voice. But you were still hopeful. You still had your humanity.

          It was time to find out more about you.

* * *

          “What’s your plan?” Sam asked finally. You were good at pep talks, he would give you that. And seeing things as they really were.

          “No idea,” you quipped offhandedly, setting to work on your tent.

          What? After that pivotal moment worthy of a movie, you had  _no idea_ what you were going to do if Dean actually showed up? You had to be kidding.

          “I usually play it by ear. I find that if I plan things out too far in advance, they usually blow up in my face. But I’m really good at reading situations.” You paused and glanced over your shoulder at Sam. He just crossed his arms and looked back at you. “For instance, you’re kinda pissed.”

          “Kinda?”

          “Yeah. Just kinda. You can’t be all the way pissed with me. I just gave you back the hope you’ve been looking for since the first time you saw your brother with black eyes. And I may not have a plan, but I’ve got you. And you’ve got me. And if you tell me about the last few times you and your brother saved the world, I think I could figure something out.”

          “Don’t you me  _we_? We can figure something out?”

          Sam watched you grapple with your response. You pursed your lips and kept your eyes on his. What the hell was your problem?

          “ _I’ll_  figure something out. And I know you’re going to help, but you’re way too biased. You’re too invested. When it comes to family, I have a feeling it’s both of our blind spots.”

          “Seriously?” Sam asked, astounded. “That’s not how this is gonna work. We’re partners. Equal. Or nothing.”

          Your features turned to stone. “No. I have the last say. If you’d been with me six years ago when everything was going down with my family, I would have stepped down and given the final decision to you. Then my family might still be alive. So either you agree that I have the last say, or get the hell out. Because this isn’t just a family spat. This isn’t a brotherly argument. This is the world we’re talking about: Heaven, Hell, and Humanity. I’m not about to let you ruin it because you think you can jump right back into the life after hiding for four years. You’ve been out too long and you’re too close to the situation. Leave the big stuff to me.”

          You were starting to sound a little too much like Dean, pre-demon. Sam didn’t need another older sibling, but he was starting to think that he needed you.


	4. Drastically Deadly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Sam go visit a friend for some help.

          “Y/N!” Little Joey exclaimed, running over to you and jumping into your arms. At five years old, this apocalyptic world was nearly all that he knew. But somehow, he was one of the few humans who still smiled and looked forward to the sunrise each morning. “I haven’t seen you in forever! Who’s this? Oh, and Reanna had her baby but it won’t stop crying. Can I come with you when you leave this time?”

          You laughed at his exuberance. “Slow down there, kid.”

          As you and Sam walked the streets of the town, people peered out the windows with distrust. If it had just been you, they would have at least come outside and watched you with distrust. They recognized you. But Sam was a stranger and strangers were something to be feared now.

          “Why don’t you go tell your mama that I’m here and I’ve brought a friend?” You set Joey on the ground and squatted to his level. “And make sure your papa is wearing pants this time.”

          Little Joey giggled, kissed your cheek, and ran off.

          “You told me that when we got here, you’d tell me what was going on,” Sam whispered, eyeing the watchful eyes of the community.

          “And I will. Eventually.”

          “We’ve been walking for two weeks, and you haven’t said a single word about why we’re here.”

 _That’s because I don’t want anyone overhearing_. “Secrets are special now, Sam. Things to be guarded.”

          “Not around me,” he argued. “You can trust me.”

          “I know,” you replied instantly and truthfully, looking him straight in the eye. There was a moment of surprise on his face and you smiled softly. “I do trust you, Sam. Dunno why, since I’ve only known you a fortnight—“

          “Fortnight?” A teasing smile split his face. Your argument from the previous minutes was forgotten and Sam swiped his arms out theatrically. “Four score and seven years ago—“

          “Sam!” you glanced around just to make sure he hadn’t frightened anyone with a gun too badly. “Tone it down.”

          “Are you embarrassed of me, Y/N?” He asked with a shit-eating grin.

          Rolling your eyes, you just grabbed his hand and hurried him down the street toward your friend’s house. Some of the weight that Sam had been carrying around for years visibly lifted in the weeks that you’d been traveling together. He smiled more easily, and joked around. It’d been so long since you’d been around anyone for longer than the time it took them to try and stab you in the back.

          Being with Sam was refreshing. It made everything easier.

          “Y/N, do my eyes deceive me or have you come back alive?”

          “Maddie!” You let go of Sam to sprint the last few feet and hug your friend. “Do my eyes deceive me or are you pregnant again?”

          Honestly, you could hardly tell. Everyone was so thin now, and Maddie wasn’t very far along. But it was more than just her stomach. She was more nervous and anxious. Her hands shook even when she was standing still.

          “You knew I wanted another godchild, didn’t you? You’re so sweet,” you cooed, trying to inject some enthusiasm into the situation. Bringing a child into this world must be horrifying. You knew that you couldn’t ever do that. Maddie was a far better person than you.

          “Joey wants a sister, and who am I to say no to his little face?” Maddie looked over her shoulder at her son, who was playing with some sticks in the front room. She nearly sounded like her old self.

          “I want to hear all about how everyone is doing, but first I have to talk to you about the Hamptons.” Maddie nodded, understanding your code perfectly. “I was telling Sam here—Oh, by the way, Maddie this is Sam. Sam, Maddie—I was telling Sam about some of the things we did during our spring breaks in college.”

          As casually as possible, Maddie ushered the two of you inside. “Of course! You know, I started to write a book about our adventures, once. Then finals week came around and I gave up entirely.”

          “Y/N said something about alligators?” Sam asked. A quick glance at him told you that he was confused why you were bringing up the light conversations you’d initiated when you felt like you needed a break from planning on how to stop the end of the world. Little did he know that you’d been laying the seeds for this moment ever since a few days after that demon showed up with Dean’s offer.

          “Ah, yes. The alligators,” Maddie grinned and puttered around her house, grabbing and mixing ingredients for her spell. As she mixed, you and she took turns remembering the time you’d accidentally gotten in between a mama alligator and her babies.

          Maddie tossed in the last pinch of herbs and the entire room seemed to soften and dull, like a soundproof box had fallen and trapped you. Her good mood and smile vanished instantly. “What’s this about, Y/N?”

          “I think we’ve been bugged.”

* * *

          “What the hell?” Sam asked, louder than needed. “You didn’t think about telling me this?”

          “And let whoever bugged us know we were onto them?”

          “How about letting  _me_  know that we were onto them? You could have found some way—“

          “I don’t know how big the bug is. If it’s only sound or a tracker or what. I wasn’t going to risk it. And here, in this room, for the next half hour, we’re completely cut off from the outside world. Nothing can get in and nothing can get out.”

          Sam crossed his arms petulantly. “That you know of. He might be able to.”

          That made you pause and Sam felt victorious. It wasn’t too often he was able to catch you off-guard. But he was getting better at hunting and at reading you. After a moment of consideration, you shook your head dismissively. “Then we’re screwed. I’d like to think he can’t.”

          “Who?” Maddie asked.

          She couldn’t know. Sam glanced at you with wide eyes, trying to convey his message. You just nodded slightly before taking over again. “Sam’s brother. It’s a long story that we don’t have time for. Can you figure out if I’m just being paranoid or if he really is tracking us?”

          Maddie hesitated. “Maybe.”

          “Thank you.” Apparently that was enough of an answer for you. “I wouldn’t have dragged you into this if it wasn’t important. And…” you trailed off. Sam watched as you grappled with something. “And same rules apply like in the Hamptons. If you even feel like I’m putting you in danger, any at all, you kick us out.”

          “I wouldn’t–”

          “You. Kick. Us. Out,” You repeated forcefully. “This isn’t spring break, Maddie. This isn’t even what it’s been like the last few years. It’s drastically deadly. I don’t want you or your family dying because of me.”

          Sam stared at you, surprised. He hadn’t seen this serious side of you before. Well, besides in glimpses. Besides when you talked to him about family, you were always smiling and hopeful.

          “She’s right, Maddie,” Sam cut in. You cast him a grateful look and he tucked it away for later.

          “Fine,” she spat out. “Like I can’t handle a little danger… whatever. I’ll need a few days to pull everything together and run all the tests. This spell is going to wear off soon, so let’s nix this talk.”

          “Discreet, Maddie. Sam’s brother is smarter than anything I’ve gone up against. He’ll figure out what we’re doing if we give him an inch.”

          “Got it.”

          Slowly, sound started filtering back in and Sam’s ears popped. The spell was broken.

          As if the last few minutes never happened, Maddie turned her back and led the way down the hall. “Joey will love having you here for a few days Y/N. He’s been talking nonstop about that scavenger hunt you put together last time. But you two look exhausted, so I’ll give you Danny’s bed. He’s out hunting.”

          “Thanks Maddie.”

          “And you two stink. Get Sam some of Danny’s clothes and you know where mine are. I’ll wash yours.”

          Your usual smile was back on your face when you looked at Sam. “Isn’t she just the best?”

          Maddie blushed at your praise and mumbled something about checking on Joey before disappearing down the hall, leaving you and him alone. “We can trust her?”

          “Yeah,” you confirmed, your smile falling as you watched her retreat. There was a tinge of sorrow in your eyes when you looked over at Sam. He wanted to find some way to erase that feeling from any of your memories. Sure, you could handle yourself. Hell, you handled yourself better than Sam could in this new world, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to protect you. “She was my best friend. My brother got her pregnant with Joey before… before he died. We’ve always protected each other. She’ll make sure we stay safe while we get our heads together.”

          What were you talking abo–ooh. The bug. Right. Everything was going to have to be said in code. It’s been a while since Sam’s had to think so hard about what he said. Considering how he hadn’t spoken to another soul in years, that wasn’t surprising. “Who’s Danny?”

          “Her brother. Don’t trust him.” A stormcloud crossed your face just before your usual sunlight chased it away. “C’mon. Let’s go sleep in a real bed while Maddie waits on us hand and foot, shall we?”

          Sam let himself be pulled into your excitement.

          “So, Sam,” you asked, once you were both in clean clothes. “Have you ever been the small spoon?”


	5. Tone of Finality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected and unwelcome visitor shows up in your dreams, changing your plans.

          The waves lapped against the beach as the sun set in a conflagration of wild colors. You leaned against the wooden railing of the pier and closed your eyes, breathing in the warmth of your innocent life.

          This was a dream you had nearly every week. Your last vacation with your family. It was the same thing every night. Your parents would walk down by the water, hand in hand in a minute or two. The youngest siblings would dash across your vision playing tag or some other raucous game. Brad, your older brother, would come lean against the railing by your side, chatting with Maddie on the phone and making sure she was doing fine. You hadn’t known it then, but she’d told Brad she was pregnant two weeks before your family flew out.

          “Y/N Y/L/N,” A deep voice said off to your side, startling you. This was new.

          You turned. “What are you doing here?”

          A dark smile crossed the stranger’s face. “I just wanted to introduce myself.”

          “Usually you include a name in introductions. Just saying.” You had an inkling of what was happening, but didn’t want to admit it yet.

          “Oh sweetheart, you know who I am. You invited me here, after all.” The man strolled to your other side as if he had all the time in the world, eyes roaming your dream world. “Nice place. This how you keep that pretty smile of yours all these years?”

          “You know,” you quipped, not particularly caring if you were poking the beast. “I think it might have something to do with the fact that I’ve never met you before.”

          He laughed; a sound that would have been attractive once upon a time. But now everything that came out of his mouth was tainted with darkness. “You’ve made my job a little more difficult, lamb.”  _Lamb? Really?_  “I’d say I was impressed. But I can still kill you any time I want.”

 _Why not kill me now?_ You wondered, but didn’t ask. This moment seemed too surreal and detached for it to actually be happening. “I bet it’s hard to find something that keeps you entertained for longer than a day or two.”

* * *

          Dean watched you carefully. Even his best demons didn’t dare to speak to him like you were. He really should just kill you. Too bad he needed you.

          He stepped forward predatorily, keeping his eyes on yours. You didn’t move or flinch even when the toes of his shoes bumped yours. Your eyes flashed and Dean allowed a smug smirk to flash across his lips, effectively drawing your attention. It took a second longer than it should have for you to drag your eyes away from his lips and Dean’s plans shifted. “Tell me, Y/N. What  _is_  your plan? Are you going to waste the rest of your life picking off demons one by one?”

          “If that’s what it takes,” you answered abrasively.

          Dean lifted his hand to let his fingers trail down your cheek, but you jerked away. Caught between the railing and Dean, though, you couldn’t go very far. This may be your mind, your dream, but Dean was in charge. Just how he liked it. So he let his hand drop, brushing your arm on its journey back to his side.

          “Let me know if you want other options. I think you’ll find that I can be  _very_  accommodating.” Dean pulled an old coin from his pocket and reached for your hand. He placed the back of your hand in his palm and smoothed open your fist so he could carefully place the coin in the center of your palm. Your fingers reflexively curled around the cool metal and Dean finished the job by curling his other hand around yours, effectively trapping your hand in both of his. “Have fun trying to get ahead of me, lamb.”

          With that, he took a step back and crossed the veil out of your dream. What you did when you woke up would tell Dean all he needed to know about you.

* * *

          Sam slowly woke up, feeling better than he ever had. When he tried to stretch, but found that he was wrapped around your body, he realized why. “I thought I was supposed to be the little spoon,” he nuzzled into your neck, squeezing you in a good morning hug before loosening his hold enough that you could get out if you wanted.

          “That’s how we started out,” you replied distractedly.

          Lifting his head slightly, Sam peered over yours and saw that you were staring at something golden in your hand. “What’s that?”

          Your fingers snapped closed and you froze for a second, throwing up a red flag in Sam’s mind. Then you relaxed and squirmed until you were facing Sam on the small bed, your closed fist between you two. “What does Dean look like?”

          “Excuse me?” It was way too early to talk about him.

          “Green eyes, great jawline, short light brown hair, kinda bowlegged?”

          Sam twitched. “Sounds like him. Why?”

          You squeezed your eyes shut as if you had wanted Sam to disagree with your description. “Because he was in my dream last night. He took me up on that stupid offer to come to me in person. And he gave me this…”

          Sam took the coin from your hand and studied it. It was old, probably Roman. Bronze, not gold as he first thought. Sam looked up at you. “Why would he give you this?”

          “I don’t know. He said he could kill me any time and that I’ve made his job a little more difficult. Then he told me that he could offer me options besides my plan of picking off his demons one by one and that he can be very accommodating. Have fun trying to get ahead of me, lamb,” you deepened your voice in an attempt to mimic Dean’s. Even though you weren’t even close, the meaning behind it made Sam shiver.

          “Have fun trying to get ahead?” Sam quickly thought about what that could mean. “Maybe this has some sort of listening spell on it.”

          Your eyes shot up to his from the coin. “What? Like a demonic one-way walkie-talkie?” You curled your hand behind Sam’s and brought the coin up to your mouth. “Breaker, breaker. This is agent oh-one-oh-two. We’ve got a disturbance in the force. Over.”

          You were making a joke of this? Dean showing up in your dreams when you had absolutely no defenses? You must’ve caught his expression because you sobered. “It’s just a coin, Sam. Dean isn’t listening to us. We’re just entertainment for him. Barely a blip on his radar…”

          “Right. You heard how stupid that sounds, right?” Sam asked a moment after you trailed off. He knew that you were saying anything that you thought would help your case if Dean was listening, but not even Dean would think you were that naïve.

          “Yeah. He wouldn’t have even bothered with me at all if I was just a blip on his radar. I don’t know, Sam. I didn’t actually expect Dean to actually come to me and actually offer me a spot in his army. But he probably is too busy to sit around listening to us, so this coin probably isn’t a bug.” Your eyes glossed over as you pulled into your mind. “I’m sorry, Sam.”

          “Sorry for what?”

          “Sorry that I’m so stupid. That I goaded Dean. That I brought us here. That I put Joey and Maddie in danger just for peace of mind.” Sam could tell there were unspoken words, but you fell silent before they could escape.

          This wasn’t just an act for Dean’s sake. You weren’t just saying these words in case someone was listening. You meant every word and that scared him. There was a tone of finality in your voice, like you were starting to give up.

          He didn’t know how to get you out of his hole you seemed to be digging.

          Then you shook your head and plucked the coin out of Sam’s hand before sitting up and walking to the other side of the room where Maddie had left your clean, folded clothes. “Anyway, we should probably leave.”

          “What? No. You told me Maddie played around with witchcraft for years. Maybe she can figure out what’s going on with the coin.” If you left now, you and Sam would never know if you really had been bugged for days.

          “She figures it really is bugged and knows how to remove the bug then what? Dean goes after her and her family for helping us? No. That’s not gonna happen. Not on my watch.” That sorrow from hours before was back in your eyes, but pronounced enough that he could see it from across the room. Sorrow and depression were two things that Sam hadn’t once correlated with you in the weeks that he’d been with you.

          “I think she can handle more than you think she—“

          “No! She can’t.” The sudden resolve and passion in you shocked Sam. He couldn’t find his voice as you continued pleading, no, stating your case. There was no room for argument in your voice. No room for negotiations. “That’s always the problem with me. I always think other people can handle more than they really can. There’s a downside to thinking the best of people, Sam. You overestimate them and that’s how they die. I’m not doing that again.”

          Sam opened his mouth to ask what the hell you were talking about, but you grabbed your clothes and disappeared through the door before he could get a sound out.


	6. Blind Spot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maddie and Sam try to convince you to stay

          “How was your nap?” Maddie asked when you walked into the kitchen.

          “Enlightening,” You spoke around the pit that had grown in your stomach, reaching up to your throat and threatening to strangle you. “I’m leaving. I should have never come to you.”

          “What? No!” Maddie swept around the table and grabbed your hands in hers. “You can’t leave!”

          “I can’t stay here—“

          Maddie moved her hands up to your shoulders and gave you a shake. “What the hell happened? A few hours ago you were just fine laying low here for a few days.”

          “I remembered who I am, Maddie. What happens to people around me. I can’t do that to you.”

          “That wasn’t your fau—“

          “You weren’t there!” You yelled, jerking out of her reach, her touch scalding you like holy water and a demon. “All you know is what other people have pieced together. I was there. I watched everything happen. I  _made_  everything happen. They’re dead because I made stupid mistakes and I’m not going to let that cycle repeat itself.”

          Shocked by your outburst, Maddie just stared at you. That familiar pity creeped into her eyes and you turned your back. In a near whisper, you continued. “I won’t come back this time.”

          Your oldest friend’s hand curled around your shoulder. “You don’t mean that. Joey needs you. Besides me, you’re the only family he has. You’re his aunt.”

          “I’m his death sentence,” you choked out.

          “Y/N,” Maddie sighed.

          “I’m sorry, Mads. I’m sorry for everything.”

          You grabbed your bag and threw open the door, nearly running into the evening air and away from her. All good things come to an end. Deep down, you always knew that was why you hadn’t died yet. Living in this hell was your punishment. Dean had wondered why you hadn’t broken yet. He didn’t know that you broke years ago. It was just easier to keep killing monsters when you knew it might save one more person for one more day. It was easier to smile knowing that maybe somewhere you could spark a little bit of hope in someone’s life. And maybe that someone could change the world for the better.

          It was easier to act whole than accept the pity that came with telling the truth.

          “Well if it isn’t Y/N,” A disgusting voice drawled. You squeezed your eyes shut, mourning what would have been the perfect exit. Leave it up to Danny to mess everything up.

          You barely spared Danny a glance. “Fuck you.”

          “Don’t you remember, doll? You already did.” You wanted to slap that smug smirk off his face, but he wasn’t worth it.

          “Must not have been memorable enough. Anyway, it was horrible seeing you, but I must be going.”

          “Y/N,” Sam called, jogging up to you. You saw that spark in Danny’s eyes and knew that you’d lost your chance to slip away.

          “Who’s this? Your boyfriend?” Before you could correct him, Danny barreled ahead, setting down the bag of what you presumed to be meat. “You know, I think you downgraded. Can’t blame you. I am kinda the best.”

          “Sam. This is Danny.” You didn’t bother introducing Danny to Sam. “Are you ready to go?”

          “We’re not going, Y/N,” Sam said conclusively.

          Crossing your arms, you challenged him with a look. “Like hell we aren’t.”

          Sam opened his mouth for what you assumed was going to be a convincing speech, then he looked over at Danny and his expression closed off. “Get outta here.”

          “Nah,” Danny dropped the bag and leaned against a tree, watching the scene unfold with bright eyes. “I’m good right here.”

          “Leave or I’ll tell Maddie about prom,” you stated simply, waiting for that line to work its magic.

          And, just like magic, it worked. Danny stiffened immediately, eyes flickering toward the house where his sister was watching from the front door. He tried to shake it off, though. “That was so long ago, it doesn’t even matter now.”

          “I think it’ll matter to Maddie. After all, if you could do something like that back then… just imagine what she would think you’re capable of now.”

          After a moment of consideration, Danny cursed and heaved the bag back over his shoulder, stomping back to the house.

* * *

          “What happened at prom?” Sam asked, curious about the dynamic between you and Danny and, he hated to admit it, a little jealous. There was history there. You don’t get to hating someone as much as you hated Danny without some pretty intense feelings beforehand.

          “I dunno,” you shrugged in answer to his question. “I overheard my brother threatening Danny with that one time and I’ve used it ever since. He hasn’t called my bluff yet.”

          Sam knew you hated planning things, but he was curious about how that held up when your best friend was on the line. “And what if he ever does call it? What will you do then?”

          “Nothing. I can’t do anything. Maddie has seen every despicable thing he’s done, but she refuses to see it. Family’s a blind spot. And,” you looked up at the sky and looked like you were choking on your next words, “For everything he’s done wrong, he actually is a pretty good brother to her.”

          “Which brings us back to why we’re not leaving.” Sam planted himself firmly in front of you so you had no choice but to look right at him. “You told me that when it comes to Dean, you have the final say because I’m too close to the situation. It’s the same thing here.”

          “It’s not the—“

          “Your family is right there,” Sam flung his arm out toward the house. “You don’t want to put them in danger and I get that. But we can’t afford to run away from their help based on a what-if.”

          “I can’t put them in danger based on a what-if, Sam!” You nearly shouted, proving his point. The only times he’d seen you seriously passionate was when you spoke of your family. That same fire was in your eyes now. He just had to find a way to get you to see the situation clearly. “We don’t know if Dean is really listening to us.”

          “And we never will if we don’t stay.”

          Your jaw clenched and you turned your head away from Sam and the house. He just needed to press the issue a little further and you would give in. He knew it.

          “We walked two weeks to get here, Y/N. All it took was one dream for Dean to scare you off. You have the last say when it comes to Dean, but I have the last say here.”

          You were thinking about it, considering it. Sam could see it in the set of your shoulders and the twitch of your jaw. It seemed like eons passed before you made up your mind. “Don’t tell Joey.”

          “What?”

          “That I’m his aunt. He knows me as his godmother. That’s what I am.” You finally looked into Sam’s eyes, resigned. “Promise me that and we’ll stay. We’ll let Maddie have a go at the coin.”

          “I promise,” Sam rushed before you could change your mind.

* * *

          Dean left the job of listening to you two to two of his highest ranking demons and walked out of the room. You hadn’t reacted like he imagined at all. Between fight and flight, he imagined that you would always pick fight.

          There was more to you than met the eye, it seemed. If only he had a way of looking up your past. One side effect he hadn’t considered while taking over the world was that the fall of civilization also meant that most technologies stopped working. Sure, he could figure out a way to get the internet back up again, but it was more effort than it was worth. And as soon as you figured out that the coin was just a coin, you would talk freely around Sam again, none the wiser than you’d been bugged for two weeks.

          Dean needed to figure out how to predict your actions if his plan was going to work.

          He gave you three nights of uninterrupted sleep before dream-crashing again. This time the beach scene was replaced with a grand mansion. You were seated at a grand piano in a simple white dress, plucking out a melody with one finger.

          “You know,” you said amiably. “I used to dream of owning a house like this when I was younger.”

          Curious. You were willingly offering up information that Dean could use against you. If you were as smart as he thought you were, there had to be a catch. “House?”

          Your attention was still on the ivory keys, but a small smile threatened around your lips. “Mansion. Whatever.” You finally looked up at him, your eyes piercing his. “I grew up poor and I would read about princesses and listen to musical soundtracks where the girl goes from rags to riches.”

          Surely you couldn’t think that telling Dean anything about yourself was smart. But he wasn’t going to argue and he certainly wasn’t going to stop you. Especially when you stood up and languidly walked towards him, the light white fabric swirling around your legs.

          “In that world, the one in my dreams, the girls always gets her happily ever after. She gets the prince.” You came to a stop right in front of Dean and reached up, running a finger over the collar of his shirt. “You’re underdressed.”

          “You’re overdressed,” Dean countered.

          “My dream, my rules.”

          A sharp, dark grin slipped onto Dean’s lips and he reached around you, flattening a hand against your back and pulling you flush with his body. “Not when I’m around, lamb.”

          He expected a rebuttal, or at least a fight against him touching you, like you had last time. But you just returned his smirk. Even when he flashed his black eyes at you, you didn’t react. If anything, your grin turned wickeder. “Don’t underestimate me, my Lord.”

          With one hand firmly on his chest, you pushed out of his arms. As your fingers trailed down his torso, the fabric of his tee-shirt changed, unweaving and weaving into a tux worthy of royalty. Dean froze for a second, taking everything in. You shouldn’t have been able to do that. He had wards around himself so that no one could change anything.

          “There,” you said smugly, eyeing your handiwork. “Now that’s fit for a king, don’t you think?”


	7. Good Intentions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You tell Sam part of what happened in the dream with Dean. There’s a lot of sneaky stuff happening. I don’t know how to sum up the parts in this series. Sorry about that.

          “He was there,” you announced, walking into the bathroom where Sam was in the shower, washing off.

          “What are you—“ there was a clatter as Sam presumably knocked some bottles off the shelf. “Shit, Y/N. I’m showering here!”

          “There’s no running water anymore,” you snarked. “It’s more like a sponge bath with river water.”

          Sam peered around the curtain, glaring at your smart-aleck comment. “Doesn’t change the fact that I’m not wearing any clothes.”

          “I know. Why do you think I came in here?” You winked at him, enjoying the flash of pink on his cheek before he ducked back behind the curtain. Maddie had kicked Danny out of the house while you were here, so you and Sam were still sharing his bed every night. Waking up in the middle of the night, tangled with Sam was making you really glad he’d talked you into staying. But you had other things to discuss at the moment so…

          “Rinse off. I have news from Hell.”

          Sam pulled the curtain back just enough to look at you again and you threw a towel at him before leaving the bathroom and pulling the door shut behind you.

          “Y/N, Y/N!” Little Joey exclaimed, running down the hall toward you. He jumped and wrapped his arms and legs around you like a spider monkey. “Mrs. Hannover is letting me help her in her garden today! I get to play in the dirt  _all_  day!”

          “Speaking of,” Maddie said, walking down the hall. “She was just looking for you, Joey.”

          Joey wriggled down and ran off, shouting excitedly. You and Maddie walked to the front window to watch. For a minute, neither of you said anything.

          Then Maddie spoke up in a broken voice. “He’s so much like his father.”

          You glanced at Roger in the yard, Maddie’s husband, before realizing she meant biological father. Your brother. Tears pricked your eyes as memories of Brad flashed through your mind. He was always so bright, so full of life. You couldn’t help but smile around him. It was no wonder that Maddie fell in love with him.

          “I miss him every day,” she whispered.

          And now he was dead. Because of you. Your stupid decision. Good intentions that ended horribly.

          Clearing your throat, you backed away towards Danny’s room. “I need to get a few things. Once Sam’s out of the bathroom I need to talk to you two.”

          You made your escape, closing the door behind you carefully and sinking onto the bed with your head in your hands. When you told Dean you listened to musical soundtracks, you hadn’t been lying. And now you knew exactly how Elphaba must have felt in Wicked. No good deed goes unpunished, indeed.

          “Hey,” Sam softly announced his presence. He shut the door and the bed dipped when he sat next to you. “What’s wrong?”

          “Everything,” you mumbled. You raised your head and were welcomed by the sight of a shirtless Sam. “But this—“ you motioned to his state of undress, “—this is definitely not wrong. In fact, I think it’s actually helping to heal this broken world. You should definitely never wear a shirt again, Sam.”

          He chuckled, blood raising in his cheeks again. “Well, if it makes you feel better…”

          His eyes dropped to your lips, igniting the fire deep inside you. Slowly, he inched forward until his wet hair brushed your forehead.

          “We really shouldn’t…” You barely breathed, guilt pushing through your bones. Sam didn’t know about what happened in the dream.

          “You’re right,” Sam agreed right before he kissed you. The second his lips touched yours, the entire world fell away. His hand on your cheek was a feeble anchor. You pressed closer, wrapping an arm around his back and letting your fingers explore the muscular expanse of his body. Sam’s kisses grew more confident until he was laying you back onto the bed, the heat of his body covering you like a blanket.

          With a groan, he lifted his head. You opened your eyes and saw his hooded hazel eyes tripping over your face as if memorizing every inch. You could see that he knew this was a bad idea, but neither of you cared at the moment. You twisted your fingers in his hair and pulled his mouth back to yours.

          It was a few more minutes before you remembered that you and Sam had to figure out how to save the world.

* * *

          “He’s not listening,” your voice crackled over the speaker.

 _Finally,_  Dean thought. Now you were getting to the good stuff. If he had to listen to you flirt with Sam for one more minute, he would have gone to that house himself and made you start talking.

          “I mean, he might be,” you amended. “But I don’t think he’s stupid enough to not figure out what spell we did every night just in case he came knocking again. He was shocked when I made him think I actually changed his clothes. I would have thought the King of Hell would have been able to figure out that everything we were using was for a simple perception spell.”

          There was one other demon in the room with Dean and he leveled his gaze on him. “You didn’t think this was relevant information?”

          “I-I-I— They just kept talking about different ingredients and—“ Dean waved his hand and the demon cut off, gagging on his own tongue. He could deal with the useless demon later. For now, though, his focus was on you and Sam.

          “Maybe he was just acting—“ Sam countered.

          “No. No one’s  _that_  good of an actor. He had this… feeling about him. I’m pretty sure he has some heavy warding. It’s making him cocky.”

          “Making him?” Sam snorted. “Dean’s  _always_  been cocky.”

          “You’re missing the point, Sam.” Dean could practically see your eyes rolling. “We can get under his skin. Play our own game.”

 _That’s_  what you thought you were doing? Playing a game? Didn’t you know that this was war? Now that you’d dismissed the idea that Dean had bugged you, he could get so far ahead.

          “What else happened in the dream?”

          There was hesitation on your part, bringing a smirk to Dean’s face. So you didn’t want Sammy to know everything. That meant Sam wasn’t in on your whole plan.

* * *

_“If you think that little trick was going to throw me off, you’ll have to try harder, lamb.” Dean said smoothly, once he’d overcome his shock._

_The challenge sparked in your eyes. “You think I’m trying to throw you off? Catch you off guard? Get under your skin? That’s cute.” You turned around slowly and strolled back to the piano. “Do you play?”_

_Was this some sort of test? Dean didn’t know how to read anything you did. You never did anything he expected. But it was his turn now. Time for him to start swaying you to his side. He took a seat on the other side of the bench, making sure his arm brushed yours. “Why? Do you want to teach me?”_

_“Maybe I want you to teach me.” You looked over at him, chin raised and eyes steady on his. You weren’t talking about the piano anymore._

_“Why would I do that?”_

_You opened your hand in the space between you two, the coin he’d given reflecting the light of the chandelier. “This coin is just a coin. You wanted to confuse me.”_

_“Why would I want that?” Dean was enjoying seeing your side of this situation._

_“You need me. That’s why I’m still alive.” Your eyes narrowed slightly, corners crinkling. “We can keep going around in circles, or we can make a deal.”_

_“You have my attention, sweetheart.” Especially if you were going to give up._

_“I’m not backing down. I still have every intention of saving the world from you. Killing you, if that’s what it takes.”_

_Dean raised an eyebrow. “You have a very interesting way of negotiating.”_

_“I like to call it the straightforward approach. Gives me the upper hand. In the words of a good friend, I can always trust you to be dishonest. Honestly. It’s the honest ones you want to watch out for, because you can never predict when they’re going to do something incredibly…” your eyes dropped to Dean’s lips, “Stupid._

_“What do you say, my Lord?” You dragged your eyes back to his. “Shall we make a deal? Three months. All of my friends are safe from you and your demons for good. Promise me that, and if I haven’t figured out how to kill you in three months, I’ll stop trying. And you can try as much as you want to convince me to join you, if that’s what you want.”_

_“You think I believe that you’ll just stop?”_

_A muscle in your jaw twitched and the serious tone of your voice crept in like when you spoke of your family. “My friends’ lives are in your hands. You may need me alive for whatever reason, but I know you have no qualms about killing them. I will do whatever it takes to make sure they stay safe.”_

_“Two months.” Dean had a time frame to stay in, and three was cutting it a little close._

_“Ten weeks.”_

_“Deal.” With that one word, Dean could feel the blood in your veins racing, speeding your heart beats. You knew how these deals worked, and you definitely weren’t complaining. In fact…_

_Dean’s eyes flashed black and you closed the distance, crashing your lips against his. The air shifted and the deal was sealed, but still, you didn’t pull away. Dean reached around you, wrapping his arm tightly against your back and pulling you closer. When the ten weeks were up, he was going to hit you hard to get you to join him. There was nothing in the deal saying he couldn’t start the process now._

_You pulled back, breathing hard, eyes wide. Dean’s lips stretched into a shark-like smile. “You have ten weeks, lamb.”_

* * *

          “Taggart,” Dean called in the demon.

          “Yes, sir?”

          “You need to get inside that house. Get inside their circle.”

          “Of course, sir.”


End file.
